


Please Don't Go

by QuillsAndInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:02:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4649760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillsAndInk/pseuds/QuillsAndInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It never should have happened</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Don't Go

 Please Don't Go

Oh, please don't go

I want you so

I can't let go

For I lose control

~Please Don't Go, Barcelona

    It shouldn't have happened. It should not have happened. Castiel should never have had an angel blade rammed into his stomach. He shouldn't be taking rattling breaths, leaking borrowed blood and beautiful grace on to Dean Winchester’s front. Sam should never have had to leave to give them time. This should not have happened.

    It was Dean’s fault, really. Ganking a few demons had never been a big deal. Never. Maybe an exorcism was required here and there, but holy water, salt, and a demon blade usually did the trick. Demons were tricky, but not unpredictable. Dean should have seen the trap. But he and Sam were to busy being arrogant. To busy trying to play the heroes. They forgot to check behind them. They missed the flashes of darkness that could never have happened naturally. And by the time they did realize, they were in the middle of the horde. Hundreds of demons intent on bringing some punk ass crossroads demon the heads of the Righteous Man and the Boy King. They put up a good fight. But they were overwhelmed. There were simply too many. So, Dean made his second mistake. He prayed to Castiel. His angel. The only one outside of Sam he wanted to protect. And Dean called him in a battle of demons. Castiel immediately answered him. He was furious. A wrathful god in a trench coat. His blue eyes blazed as he smote demons. Sam and Dean were given enough relief to reenter the fight with vigor. They we able to take down the demons. It was the last one who did it. Baal, Castiel would later tell him. The commander. The straw broke the camel’s back. The butterfly’s wingbeat that caused the hurricane. As he saw him, Dean called a warning. His third and final mistake. Castiel turned and the demon plunged his blade into Castiel’s gut. The world slowed.      

  _Time slowed. Maybe the world stopped turning. Dean couldn't find it in him to care. Castiel’s lips were pressed to his. Not hungry, or lustfully. Just sweetly. Gentle. Dean couldn't help himself. He was falling for Castiel._

    Castiel took a gasp of unnecessary breath and fell. The demon removed the blade and was gone. Dean ran to Castiel. He curled around the wound. Dean cradled him. He removed his bloody jacket and flannel to use is clean undershirt to press against Castiel’s wound. Castiel slumped on to Dean’s bare shoulder.

    _Castiel fell asleep on top of Dean, head pressed to his shoulder. It was the first time they had made love and Castiel had been overwhelmed by the feeling. He'd never been touched in that way. Dean couldn't think why, he was beautiful. Even more, Dean thought with a sleepy smirk, with the purple bruise that now marked his clavicle._

    Bruises marred Castiel’s body, making impure the flesh Dean so adored. Blood and grace soaked through the shirt. 

    "Dean, I'll just…go.” Sam gave Dean a look of pity and left. Tears ran from Dean’s eyes. Castiel stuttered out a breath. He agonizingly looked up at at Dean.

    “It's mortal.” He said.

_Dean had offered his ‘I love you’ long before Castiel had said it. Castiel didn't believe he could love in the way Dean wanted. But Dean was persistent. Castiel said it when Dean woke up one morning. It was slow and he was still dumb with the remnants of slumber, but it didn't stop a smile gracing his face when Castiel rumbled three important little words._

   “No. You can heal yourself.” Dean pleaded. Castiel shook his head weakly.

    “Not this time. It's okay, Dean. I'm not afraid.”

    “Well I am.” Dean snapped. His voice broke. “I don't want to wake up tomorrow and know you aren't there.” It seemed Castiel had no response for that. He moved to twine their fingers together one last time.

    _Dean twined his fingers with Castiel's._

_“What are you doing, Dean?” The angel had asked._

_“You need to hold hands to dance, Cas.” Dean had replied in amusement. They were in a small bar outside of Des Moines. It was late, and a slow song had started to play softly. On a whim, Dean had taken Castiel on to the deserted dance floor to teach him to dance. He was a quick study and soon they were rocking a gentle three step to the quiet music. They didn't talk, just let the silence and togetherness wash over them._

    “I will always love you, Dean.” Castiel murmured.

    “So don't leave.” Whispered Dean “Come back to me.” Castiel shushed him.

    “I will see you again, Dean. We will meet again in another life. No one can keep us appear forever.”

    “I want you for all of this one.” Dean sniffled. Castiel kissed him once, gently. It contained all of his love.

    “Close your eyes.” Castiel whispered. Dean closed his eyes.  

    "Let me go.” Dean couldn't. He wouldn't.

    “No.”

    “Now, Dean.” Castiel weakly tried to push Dean away. Dean held him tighter.

    “ _No_.”

    “I love…” Dean saw bright light from behind his eyelids. A burning, searing pain erupted across his chest. He sobbed in earnest. The smell of molten flesh didn't even reach him.

    “Dean.” It was Sam's voice this time.

    “I love him.” Dean sobbed. His eyes were still screwed shut. Sam gently pulled Castiel's body away from him. “That's my baby.” Dean keened, “that's my baby.”

    “Dean, your shoulders.” Sam sounded awestruck. Dean opened his eyes and blinked away the tears. When he looked down, he made a noise that was at once a roar and a whimper. Burns in the shape of angels wings marked his chest. Castiel was trying to push him away so as not to burn him. Dean was forever branded with the imprint of Castiel’s wings. He crawled over to where Sam had laid Castiel's body. He knelt above it and screamed curses at heaven. When his throat was raw, he bowed his head and cried silently.

    Sam watched his brother. Dean fell to pieces. Shattered and and died right there beside his angel. But it was all for naught. Castiel moved no more.

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters therein. All rights go to Eric Kripke and the CW. I make no money from this story


End file.
